Improbably True
by Mary Tyler-Moore
Summary: A soldier is dead. And Lt. Turner is charged with telling his mother. What kind of God would make things like this happen?


Improbably True 

Lieutenant Ronald Turner looked at the envelope in his hands. He stared at the letters spelling out the name Mary Johnson. It was hot out and the dust from the road was making the car ride unbearable. That and the dread of the news he was about to share. This was Turner's first time telling a mother that her son had died in battle. Normally, the army wouldn't send a man to talk to the deceased's family. But this was a special case. Mary Johnson was the wife of a general from World War I. He had recently passed away from a heart attack. So Mary Johnson, the wife of a hero, was all alone. It wasn't right that her son should be taken away so soon. So, here was the Lieutenant to deliver the message that no mother should hear.

The Lieutenant pulled up to the house and parked. He opened the car door and looked in the side-view mirror, giving himself a final nod. Turner looked up toward the house. His eyes seemed to go directly to the window of the Johnson household, where the star that signaled to everyone who passed that a man from that household was serving in the war. Turner walked the path up to the house. He stepped up to the porch. He adjusted his hat before he knocked.

His fear escalated as the door opened. Mrs. Johnson's smile seemed to slide of her face as she saw Turner's uniform and his rigid expression. Mrs. Johnson fell to the floor with violent sobs. Her body shook with anguish. Lieutenant Turner was clueless as to what to do. He opened his mouth to speak but no words would form. Finally he said, "Ma'am may I help you to the couch." She only nodded as he helped her up and took on her weight. As they got to the couch, Mrs. Johnson's sobs grew weaker. She put her hand out to receive the letter in the young lieutenant's hand.

She tore it open with shaking hands. She pulled the letter out of it's holder. Her crying renewed as she read the first line of the letter. The envelope crumpled in her hand as she read. The crying only increased as she continued reading. As did Turner's discomfort. When Mrs. Johnson finished she looked up at Turner, who cleared his throat and said, "Mrs. Johnson, I wish to say on behalf of the U.S. Government, that we are terribly sorry for the death of your son. He fought well and defended his nation with excellence…" Turner paused. He knew that his words were generic and probably the very words that she had just read. But he had no idea what else to say. What could he say to someone who not only lost their son but their only family? But the Lieutenant looked into the woman's eyes and knew that he had to say something. He took a deep breath and decided to leave what he had planned on saying behind.

"Ma'am is there anything I can do?"

Lieutenant Turner had no idea what those words meant to Mary Johnson. She had no one now. Her husband was dead and now so was her only son and child. She turned to the Lieutenant and asked the only thing she wanted, "Will you pray with me?"

The young man couldn't refuse. But he wanted to. Very much. He didn't believe in prayer. Well it wasn't prayer that he didn't believe in exactly. It was the thing that you would pray to. A god. Not after the terror this war took him and the rest of the world through. Two of his brothers were in the war. One stationed in the Pacific and the other in Europe. He would get letters back blocked out in black. The letters were indecipherable. Childhood friends that he had known were shot and killed. Or wounded beyond recovery. No, he wasn't sure there was a god and if there was he didn't want to believe in one that would bring this much pain and horror.

But he put his own feelings aside, and held the sobbing mother's hands and closed his eyes as she asked her god for his strength and wisdom. She thanked him for the wonderful years that she had with her son. And she prayed for comfort and for peace from her pain. The Lieutenant wished that he could have her undying faith. It seemed to be a great comfort. One that he longed for. But he couldn't bring himself to believe. But still being able to know that she would be able to see her family once more… Well it was a beautiful idea. One that Turner couldn't quite entirely dismiss from his mind.

Mrs. Johnson lifted her head. Her eyes still had tears. She picked up a picture frame on the table next to them. Her hand ran along the outline of her son. She looked up to the Lieutenant and said, "I'm thankful to know I'll see him later."

The Lieutenant looked at her and said, "But how do you know?"

The mother of the dead soldier said without any doubt said, "God said so through the Bible."

"But how are you so sure? I mean is it possible that your wrong?"

"I'm not so sure what you are asking?"she asked.

The Lieutenant took a breath. "I just don't understand how you can be so convinced. Hundreds of thousands of people have died in this war. And there is nothing we can do about it. But it's horrible and terrifying. How can a god who created us do this? I just don't understand."

The room was very quiet. It was a quiet that had two very different feelings. One was of pensive understanding. The other of confusion and misunderstanding. The silence surrounded the two for a while. But not long enough to make it uncomfortable. Just long enough to make it reasonably dramatic. Mrs. Johnson turned to the young man and said with confidence and concealed pain, " I know what it is to lose someone. I understand the death and misery that surrounds this generation. But did you ever think that the pain was necessary?" She paused once more but this time to take a breath. "Evil happens in the world. It isn't something that can be helped. That's what sin is. Evil. And this war and my son's sacrificed life were necessary. They were necessary because God placed us here for that reason. To stop sin as best we can. God knows what He's doing. And it's our job to listen and follow Him. Without Him there is no reason for life. There is no purpose."

The Lieutenant nodded. Yes, it was nice to have total and complete faith. To know that you are never alone. Maybe. Maybe, that's why bad things must happen. Maybe those things happen because it doesn't matter what happens here. The pain and suffering would evaporate and become non-existent.

The young man, who had walked in that home with fear and defeat surrounding him, turned to the mother and spoke with her a little more. They spoke of her life and her son's. She cried many more times. And when she did, the Lieutenant's handkerchief was always ready. When he was confident that she was at ease, Lieutenant Turner stood and gave his goodbyes to Mrs. Johnson. He walked out of the house with more comfort than he had imagined was possible. The truth was that as the Lieutenant left, he was convinced that what he refused to admit was possible ended up being improbably true.


End file.
